Mixed Up

This post is an entry to the Indiblogger Close Up Fire-Freeze contest.

 

Let's talk about polar opposites here. The north and south poles cannot exist without each other. If you break a magnet in order to take away one from the other, a new pole is formed, no matter how small the magnet becomes.

I believe this applies to emotions as well. You can't separate love from hate, sadness from elation, anger from sympathy or any other such pairs that we might speak of. It's just that a unique perspective is required to visualize them together. The following is something that I went through some time back. And no, it's not totally about the paired up emotional oddities that I mentioned already. I'm talking about felt bewilderment and utter clarity with the others thrown in as well. It's all starkly visible.

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Let's go to the very beginning. No, I'm not going to where I was born to show a possible insight to why I am the way I am. It starts with a girl I loved. I hated her as well. I was always angry at her and felt sympathetic towards her when she proved to me time and time again that she was used to being used (and liked it as well). We had a rough relationship. Well, rough might be a rather bizarre description. I should actually call it strangely real. After the few rosy months (which were only partially rosy) the rocky period set in. I used to feel all the emotions one can feel in the course of a single day and start all over again the next day.

Every afternoon when I'd pick her up, I'd be in a foul mood to begin with until I met her and some time passed. Then the hate and willingness to strangle her would melt away and give way to lucid romance; or something adequately close to it. Those set of emotions would last when by the time I would have drop her back, she would say something unnerving that would set my tendons on fire and I'd drive my motorcycle a little too fast to scare the living daylights out of her. She would threaten me that she'd jump off but who was she kidding? Jump off a bike moving at least at 90 kilometers an hour? Empty threat. I'd drop her and without waiting for a goodbye, speed off into the night to my own abode. Then on the phone, there would be yelling. By the time we'd go to bed, the screaming would stop, after some items in the room were smashed as well, and we'd get apologetic.The morning would dawn upon the hysterical night the next day. Life would come full circle. The separation was inevitable.

What happened next cannot be described as an act of purely faithless self satisfaction. I was well and truly over her after I met someone else. No, I was not in love with her. I barely liked her. I hated the way she smelled. I didn't like the way she ate. Nothing attracted me to her. But I had her and she was falling head over heels in love with me and I was quite enjoying the pleasures that followed. Now I don't want you to hate me, reader but I've been called something of a Casanova. I don't know how much of that is true but at this time while I was enjoying my sinful pleasures with one girl I did not like, I wanted to speak to another that liked me. Two more, actually. I had three women I would never call my girlfriends but each of whom desired that very relationship from me, that is, a romantic one. I would give them that but only halfheartedly and not showing the utter disloyalty that I felt towards each of them. I was waiting. I was biding my time until something substantial happened in my life. Something of great importance. Something that would change the very polarity of emotions.

I met her in the virtual world. We instantly connected the moment we got talking. Nothing seemed out of place. We were chatting quite a lot. I was to meet her in less than a fortnight. But I had baggage. A lot of it, and I wouldn't be wrong in saying that either! And then I spoke to her for the very first time. It was a moment of clarity like no other. But I was also clouded with illusion. After that fateful conversation, I set certain wheels in motion. Multiple break ups had begun. But why? Because I loved the way she laughed and the fact that it chimed through my cerebrum every time I thought of her. I was tangled up in emotions I can never describe. I was clouded with judgmental agony. What was I to do? Should I leave every one of three girls, each of whom were very nice and sweet and cared for me deeply? For what? I did not know then. But like I said, in between those moments where nothing was certain, there were times which were crystal clear. There were eternity long minutes during which I knew exactly what I had to do. But I did not know why. Mixed up emotions? I might say that with conviction.

Now, it's been many months since those times where nothing was unclear and that was good. Or shall I call them moments when everything was known and sure? I did not know then. I sure do now. I made no mistake. That conversation changed the possibility of existence of mixed up feelings in my life. I now feel a singular emotion. I call it love.

A note to the reader : Fact or fiction. You may choose. But please do not judge.
Also, please post your own similar stories, if any, here (Close Up's Facebook page) and as comments on this post of mine!

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